


The Call for Blood

by DoreyG



Series: Sacred and Wild [3]
Category: Frey & McGray Series - Oscar de Muriel
Genre: Bad Decisions, Book 3, Denial of Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: Not that I minded, to be honest. If it was a straight choice between staying in that ballroom and being dragged away by the man I'd made come multiple times... Well, the latter option was always going to be my favourite.





	The Call for Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Back to McGray's POV!

I didn't realize that I was moving away from the spectacle that Ellen Terry was presenting, the _madwoman_ fit for giggles and awe, until I was almost at the door, and took a few seconds after that to notice that I was moving mainly because Frey was dragging me. Not that I minded, to be honest. If it was a straight choice between staying in that ballroom and being dragged away by the man I'd made come multiple times... Well, the latter option was always going to be my favourite.

Aye, even with all that'd passed between us. What a sap am I.

The door clicked shut behind us, and I had the brief impression of a far too fancy sitting room. Only a brief one, though. In the next moment Frey was turning to me with an expression of surprising concern and I was lost, "are you alright?"

"Better, for being out of that room," I admitted, and gave up looking around the sitting room in favour of looking straight at Frey instead, "I'm surprised ye noticed, dandy."

His eyes glinted briefly, he drew his shoulders back. I refused to avert my eyes, only kept looking at him - posher than ever shoved into his suit, dark hair immaculately neat and faint flush rising on his cheeks - with interest, "despite what you may think of me I am at least _mildly_ observant."

"Ye dinnae wanna ken what I think of you, dandy," I said, mainly to tease him. Childish, I know, but if I'm not allowed to take him to bed anymore at least I can still make him flush bright red "...But thank you, nonetheless."

It was only teasing, but somehow it made Frey's face go even redder. He stood there, in the middle of the room, and stared at me with faintly wounded eyes. The flush was still on his face, he kept shifting with his hands as if something was desperately trying to claw its way up his throat.

"...Frey, I-"

"Despite what you may think of me," he repeated, straightening his shoulders even further and sending me a piercing look. The way he peered at me... Ach, it was something to keep me busy at night, "I am capable of caring about others, and I _don't_ want to see you get hurt."

I stared at him, shocked. In the months since we'd had our last encounter, Frey had done a downright exceptional job of pretending that it'd never happened. No lingering touches, no appreciative glances, no little hints that his resolve was waning. He'd even moved out of my house, for fuck's sake.

But now... He cared for me. And bloody hell, I didn't know what to do with that.

"That's not what I meant, lassie," I said calmly, resorting to my own nightmare for him out of a sense of self-preservation. It was the wrong sense, I saw his eyes shutter with a certain sense of dread, "I didn't... I didn't _ken_ , but I didn't think ye were some sort o' ice queen."

"Of course you didn't," Frey said, in a tone that rather implied that he thought the exact opposite, "but that's alright. I didn't drag you back here so we could discuss me."

"No." I hesitated for a long moment. It would've been so easy, then, to twist the conversation. To direct it back to the safe ground of the case, and shove any pesky emotions that lingered far away "...Ye dragged me back here because ye cared for me, and didn't want to see me get hurt."

Frey's face stilled, went absolutely flat as if I'd just shown him a verifiable picture of a fairy and told him his new job was to negotiate with them. It would've been funny, if I hadn't seen the man naked and was steadily more unable to deny the urge that I wanted to do so again, "What I said in Lancashire still stands." 

"Believe me, I remember what ye _said_ every single day," I said, trying to force appropriate sarcasm into my voice... But unable to do so. It still came out too tender, it still came out in a tone that made Frey suck in an unsteady gasp of air, "but I'm not the one who brought it up."

" _I'm_ not the one who brought it up!" Frey snapped, trying to summon up righteous rage, "I simply said that-"

"That you cared for me," I reminded him, perhaps somewhat ruthlessly. His eyes narrowed, his lips pursed but still he seemed unable to find that righteous rage he obviously wanted so desperately, "that you don't want to see me hurt, that _you_ remember Lancashire too."

"Of _course_ I remember Lancashire!" He snapped, stepping right up into my space. His face was flushed bright red, he looked both furious and beautiful, " _I_ think about it every single damned day too. But that doesn't mean-"

"That ye want to do it again?" I mocked him, well aware that we were now so close that I could feel his breath against my lips, " _despite_ the fact that what we said in Lancashire obviously isn't working out for either of us?"

I expected him to bristle up even further, then. To yell in my face, spit insults at my feelings and storm out of the room without even a backwards glance...

Instead he seemed to wilt a little. Allowed his shoulders to slump, as he gazed at some point beyond my head and drew in a deep and shaky breath, "if you remember Lancashire, then you know very well that it's not about what I _want_."

I stared at him for a long second, as poleaxed by that admission as I had been when he came to me the first time and submitted so very prettily, "yer acting like it's some kind o' _choice_."

"It is a choice, as much as I don't wish it to be," Frey said, voice wobbling even as he raised his chin again. He was trying so hard to be strong, but there was something so terribly weak in his eyes, "you or Edinburgh, you or my job, you or the _one thing_ of worth I have left in this world. I can't be distracted."

"Ye can have both," I said, insistently, reached out to catch his face between my hands and tilt it firmly towards me, "me and Edinburgh, me and yer job, me and yer self worth. Ye don't _have_ to deny yerself anything."

"You don't understand," Frey said, and raised his eyes to me with a certain kind of desperation lurking deep within them, "I _can't_. Please-"

I didn't let him finish asking, _I_ couldn't let him finish asking. In the end I simply reached out, with a desperate feeling of my own, and dragged him into my arms again.

The first kiss was awkward, somewhat hampered by the fact that neither of us had been expecting it much. His hands landed flat against my chest, and his body was as stiff as a board against mine. He wasn't resisting me, but he also wasn't responding at all. I was on the point of deciding that he wasn't going to relent after all, on the point of releasing him and slinking away in defeat...

But then he gave a low sob into my mouth, and his lips started to move against mine. The kiss changed then, became just as passionate as we'd managed last time. Suddenly his hands were up in my hair, my hands were clenched in the lapels of his stupid suit and we were rocking together in a way that felt almost dangerous.

I am not sure what happened next, either he yanked me towards him or I surged forwards into him, but the next thing I knew his back was against one of the sitting room walls and I was looming over him. His hands tightened in my hair, and I groaned as a shock of arousal went through me. By the way he was shuddering against me, he obviously felt much the same way.

We broke apart briefly, just to gain some much needed air, and I expected that if there was any moment where he'd regain his senses then that'd be it. But, no. He was the one that initiated the next kiss. Our lips met hard, our teeth barely avoided clicking together and our tongues twined intimately. Before I knew it I was fucking his mouth, learning the taste of him in even more depth than I had before.

His nails scratched at my scalp, pointedly encouraging, and I indulged him with a strange sense of giddiness. I pressed him even harder against the wall, no doubt rumpling his fine suit, and inserted one thigh between his legs. To my pleasure I won a groan for my troubles, a frantic increase in the amount of attention he paid me.

He was already hard against my thigh. That was no surprise, I was already pretty hard myself. I don't know what it was about the man, but he _did_ things to me. He took my perfectly reasonable mind, no _matter_ what he might say, and turned it on its head. His mouth was an intoxicant. He kissed me, and I couldn't help but fall apart.

Crazed by lust, as was always the way between us, I shoved one brusque hand underneath his thigh and lifted it so I could achieve a better angle. He allowed me, even arched up on his heels to make it easier. His thigh slid over my hip, like it was meant to be there, and our cocks brushed together tantalisingly through the layers of fabric between us. He made another sobbing sound into my mouth, and suddenly a passionate desire rose up within me to throw him down on the floor and have my way with him.

Who knows how it would've ended up, if there'd been nobody but the two of us? I was certainly ready to go, and while I can't speak for Frey - especially now - I'm as sure as can be that he was willing. We could've quite happily fucked in that room. I could've quite happily _ruined_ him, ruined both of us, in a way that nobody could deny.

Except... Something did stop us. A knock at the door, one that sent Frey shoving desperately at my arms until I stepped back. Bram _bloody_ Stoker's voice echoing out through the room, "detectives? I hate to inform you, but there's been a new problem."

We stared at each other, panting. I don't know how I looked, probably like a damned monkey in an uncomfortable suit, but Frey looked _wild_. His suit was rumpled, his mouth was kiss swollen and his hair was ruffled up around his head like some kind of halo. He looked wrecked. He looked _gorgeous_.

I am not a fool, I _know_ what the law has in mind for people like us. I reached out and smoothed Frey's ruffled hair down, until it looked much as it had before. I ran my finger quickly across his lips, trying to ignore his instinctive flinch as best I could, until they looked a little less damply swollen. I even straightened his suit, until only a _very_ close perusal would've revealed just how much it'd been messed with. All the way through he watched me mutely, like he couldn't look away.

"Nobody will think anythin' is amiss," I told him, trying to sound reassuring. It probably didn't work very well, I know that I'm about as reassuring as a brick through a window, "we were just arguing about the case in here. If anybody asks about your lips, say that I punched you."

"Again," Frey said, but gave a tentative nod. We stared at each other for another long moment, carefully. I probably looked like what I was, a besotted sod who had just clambered in way over his head. Frey looked a little relieved, a little lost, a little like he just wanted to lean back in and continue where we had left off...

And then he drew in a deep breath, his eyes going deliberately blank. Stepped around me, careful not to touch at any point, and headed to the door with his chin determinedly lifted.


End file.
